


Hymns and Prayers

by taylocrow



Series: Jonsa Kink Week [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Church Sex, Dark Jon, F/M, Loss of Virginity, Old Southern vibes because I'm from the south so yeah, Public Sex, Wall Sex, idk what's wrong with me - Freeform, jonsakinkweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 14:26:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13549245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylocrow/pseuds/taylocrow
Summary: Jon Snow is nothing but trouble, everyone knows that, but Sansa can't stop staring or thinking about how he makes her feel. How she wishes he'd make her feel.





	Hymns and Prayers

**Author's Note:**

> I'M LATE! But in my defense, I'm traveling. Tomorrow's kink fic will be posted on time 0:)

It’s the seventh Sunday that the notorious Jon Snow is present during bible study right before service. He slicks his hair back, smiles tightly, and only speaks when spoken to. All the rumors and gossip that Winterfell has cooked up about this poor boy shed away underneath the bright morning light pouring in from the Sunday school window.

 

His chair is always just a little too close to hers and it leaves her mouth dry. Anytime she reaches for anything he’s always stretching across to get it first, just so he can brush his weathered fingers overtop Sansa’s. Everything about him makes her head feel fuzzy, but her Mama’s words always echo through her shameful thoughts: “Nothing good comes from boys born out of wedlock.”

 

Ramsay Bolton was proof enough. All of Winterfell heard what he did to his poor pregnant stepmother.

 

Lyanna Snow got knocked up by some traveling salesman, or carnie depending on who you talk to, and got all starry eyed over empty promises of white picket fences. She’d been left behind to rot in a shoebox of a house working two jobs at the diner and nursing home, just to put food on the table for her delinquent son.

 

Jon Snow regularly cursed, raced cars, and always had a cigarette on him.

 

It currently sat behind his ear, although it was easy spot since his wild curls were tamed. Sansa swallowed thickly at the sight of it. Her hands were placed on the table before her, on either side of her marked up Bible, and she jumped slightly at the feel of his hand bumping into hers.

 

“That’s it for this morning! See you in the service boys and girls.” Mrs. Mordane dismissed them warmly as she rose to her feet.

 

Sansa hopped up as quick as she could, hurrying over to be with Beth and Jeyne, and as far away from the Snow boy as she could manage. It didn’t do her any good to think about how him sitting so close made her feel.

 

“Sansa dear, do you mind?” Mrs. Mordane holds out a stack of hymnals that need to be put away. Beth and Jeyne shoot her an apologetic glance before leaving the room with the other kids. Sansa smiles sweetly and thanks Mrs. Mordane for class, then heads down the hallway to the sacristy to put away the books.

 

Then, she heads into the robe room to dress for choir. The only one left robing is Olenna Tyrell, who greets Sansa pleasantly before tying off her rope and exiting through the door into the sanctuary.

 

Sansa hums to herself as she carefully removes her scarf and reaches for her white robe donning her name tag.

 

“Sansa Stark.” A gruff voice from behind makes her jump. She spins on her heel and is more than stunned to see Jon Snow standing in the doorway.

 

“Hello Jon,” She sputters, “Wh-what are you doing?”

 

Jon smiles, but that’s too pleasant of a word, it’s more like baring his teeth. The flash of white causes goosebumps to rise and spread like fire across Sansa’s pale skin. “Just saying hello to my favorite member of the choir.”

 

A lump lodges itself in Sansa’s throat as her eyes bug out, “Hello.”

 

Jon scoffs at that and rolls his eyes, “What? Are you scared of me?”

 

Sansa quickly shakes her head in response, but her wobbly knees say otherwise. Jon drags his eyes up and down her body like a hungry wolf inspecting its prey, and it makes Sansa feel something deep in her gut.

 

The heavy wooden door shuts quietly behind him before he takes another step closer, “You ever been kissed Sansa?”

 

A gasp falls from her lips that leaves her humiliated and scrambling, Sansa nods her head frantically.

 

Joffrey Baratheon had kissed her last year after they’d gone to dinner a few times but that was it for Sansa Stark’s love life. Her other friends went steady with boys and told stories of tangled tongues in the backs of cars, but all of it was too dangerous for a girl like Sansa. Her Daddy was the sheriff that usually broke up the kids sneaking out and trespassing in corn fields. Mama would have a stroke if she knew Sansa had done anything other than hold the Baratheon boy’s hand. Young ladies don’t do things like that.

 

“Well.” Jon snickers, “What would you say…if I wanted to kiss you?”

 

“I don’t know.” She does know. She’s thought about it ever since he started showing up. Jon had the longest eyelashes she’d ever seen on a boy, and the softest looking lips…

 

His proximity makes her gulp, but she doesn’t dare look away from his unblinking eyes. “Do you want me to?” His breath ghosts against her lips, it’s so warm and smells like the peppermint gum he’d been chewing on to cover up the cigarette smell.

 

Sansa doesn’t have time to think before his plush lips are pushed against hers, so gentle, and so hungry. She should back away, slap him, or yell for somebody. Jon hadn’t so much as taken her on a date or properly met her parents! But his mouth felt so good on hers, she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

 

His tongue begins to forcefully pry her lips, and then it’s all moving so fast she doesn’t know where she begins and Jon ends. He’s got her pushed against the wall beside the coat rack holding all the empty hangers. Sansa’s is the only one left hanging, but it doesn’t register in her mind because she’s too lost in his touch.

 

Jon’s hands are rough when they trace up her smooth thighs, pushing the skirt of her sundress up, up, up. It makes her head feel heavy and eyes glaze over as he runs his fingers over the damp fabric of her panties. “Tsk, tsk, Sansa Stark.” Then he’s pushing her up against the worn white wall.

 

The fabric gets shoved to the side so that his practiced fingers can resume their tracing, only this time against her bare slit. The dull ache she’d felt during class becomes a hot rod of want between her legs and she finds herself rocking against his hand’s movements.

 

“That’s it,” Jon rasps against her bare neck, “Such a good girl.”

 

She’s unraveling before him, all her debutant ways tossed to the wayside to chase the high he promises. That sweet taste of spearmint is back on her mouth as she hears his zipper. “You want it, don’t you?”

 

Sansa’s skull thwacks against the plaster, eyes blow wide in shock and fear, “I…I never.”

 

“Christ.” Jon pulls his fingers away from her and she lets out a humiliating whimper.

 

“Please.” She begs as she juts her hips forward, “Please.”

 

Jon looks to the ceiling, heaving a great sigh, and Sansa thinks maybe he’s praying. But then his eyes are back on hers and he’s smiling so dark it makes her nipples hard against her bra. The fabric of her dress is dropped momentarily, and his wide palms are cupping her breasts through all the fabric, teasing her so painfully. “Please, what?”

 

“Will you…” Sansa closes her eyes and whispers way too fast, “Make love to me?”

 

Jon let’s out a breathy laugh before setting his jaw, “I’ll fuck you if you want.”

 

To that Sansa shakes her head eagerly, whatever he wants to call it, she could care less. All she knows is she wants his hands back on her, even if they are in the robe room of their church.

 

He hikes her dress up and then uses the momentum to grab her hips and hoist her up against the wall. “It’ll hurt.”

 

“I want it.” Sansa locks her legs around his waist and looks down into his brown eyes. She watches them go darker still at her words, words she didn’t know the power of or how she knew to say them, but it just knowing they felt right.

 

Jon clears his throat, “We’ve got to be quick.”

 

“Do it.” Sansa commands and Jon grunts at her bluntness.

 

His hardness rubs against her slick opening and then he’s slowly lowering her onto him. Sansa hisses at the intrusion, but grits her teeth to distract herself from the pain. It’s hard to tell how far he is but it hurts, God, it hurts, and she’s about to squirm away when he grabs her face with a warm hand.

 

“You’re okay,” Jon’s lips glisten in the low lighting, “But say the word and I’ll stop.”

 

Sansa shakes her head reverently, “Do it.”

 

Jon clenches his teeth as she wiggles herself down the length of his cock. His hand drops from her face to grab her other hip, and his strong fingers flex over the fabric of her gathered dress.

 

It’s going to wrinkle.

 

Then his face is in her neck, kissing and sucking at the exposed skin, stealing the breath from her lungs. “I’m going to touch you, ok? It’s going to feel like earlier.”

 

Sansa nods numbly as Jon moves a hand down to rub at that spot that drove her to this. She’s panting and writhing on him as he starts to pump harder inside her, his hand rubbing wildly at her exposed privates. “Come for me pretty girl, I wanna see what you look like.”

 

She isn’t quite sure what he means, but she craves his encouraging words, so she rocks harder on him. Jon grunts and whispers in her ear, “What would your Mama say? Getting fucked against the wall by the Snow bastard.”

 

Sansa gasps and throws her head back against the wall, her eyes hazy. A warmth builds and pulls at her thoughts. Everything is so messy, so wrong, but Jon’s smiling and he’s so big and it’s starting to finally feel good, really good.

 

“Ah,” Sansa gasps and Jon snickers. “That’s right Sansa, come for me. Come for the boy you let fuck you right before church.”

 

That’s it.

 

Whatever she’s been working towards finally crashes over her in a sharp wave that leaves her breathless. Her eyes fly open when the feeling dulls, and Jon’s staring at her. “Good girl.” His gruff voice coos and it leaves her warm all over.

 

His hand leaves her to be placed back on her hip, her legs have dropped and are wrapped awkwardly around his calves, but Jon continues to pound her into the wall. She thinks if she didn’t have to be so quiet, she’d be screaming now, but you can’t do that in a church.

 

Jon looks at her strangely, “I’m going to finish and I want to see my cum all over your pretty face. You want that?”

 

Sansa pushes at his chest so that she can drop to her knees, because she knows what that means. This is what Harry Hardyng did to Beth.

 

She looks up at him through her lashes and licks her lips at the sight of his veiny hand vigorously stroking his hardness. “Do it.”

 

Jon moans then, his mouth slack, and Sansa closes her eyes just in time for the rush of heat on her face. It’s thick, wet, and sticky. Sansa blinks her eyes and licks her lips, sucking it up and tasting the saltiness of him. “Fucking hell, don’t do that.”

 

“What?” Sansa frowns, embarrassed at her instinct.

 

“Lick it up like that. You’re going to make me do that again.”

 

“What if I wanted you to?” Sansa peers up at him, arms behind her back, and sweet smile painted on her face.

 

Jon cocks his head and sucks in a breath, “You’re going to have to put me on that prayer list of yours.”

 

Sansa drops her eyes at the thought of church and then fumbles to her feet in a panic. “Choir! Oh goodness!” Sansa scrambles to grab her robe and jams her arms inside, not even thinking to look Jon’s way. “I’ve got to go!” Sansa feels the rush of shame rolling through her body.

 

She’s in church and just let the Snow bastard defile her in the robe room! Before marriage! She didn’t even love him!

 

“Sansa, wait.” Jon grasps her arm and pulls her close.

 

“What!” She snaps in a panic, but he doesn’t even flinch, just reaches forward with his dress shirt sleeve to wipe up the remaining evidence from her face.

 

“Can’t go in there like that, now can you?” Jon smirks at her before placing a gentle kiss to her brow.

 

“I’ve got to go.” But she doesn’t pull away from him.

 

Jon let’s go of her arm and looks down at her watch, “Service is about to start.”

 

Sansa swallows and he’s leaning over and kissing her cheek, “Pray for me.”

 

Then he’s turning on his heel and opening the robe room’s door, looking over his shoulder to smile at her, “See you in there.”

 

Sansa turns and runs out the other door straight into the sanctuary, sprinting up in a tizzy and gaining way more attention than she intended too. Her fellow choir members shoot her looks, but she misses them because she’s too busy staring at the bastard boy with the dark eyes and darker smile.

 

He doesn’t take his eyes off her the entire service, and Sansa finds her mind wandering to imagining all the other places Jon could fuck her in the room.

 

Mama always says good girls do good things to get good boys, but what she just did got her a good thing with a bad boy, and she isn’t sure where that leaves her. Sansa prays for Jon and prays for her and then thinks of how she’s going to tell him she wants him to fuck her on the pew where her family sits to worship every Sunday morning.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Church sex, I'm going to hell, what uppppp


End file.
